Strangers
by Yullenrin
Summary: It was an awfully high jump from the parapet to the cobbled stone courtyard down below- Arthur convinces Merlin. "But a magician never reveals his tricks, Arthur."


_**Prompted by the line: A magician never reveals his tricks. Just having fun with the pairing... and this come out from the tips of my fingers to this word document (shrugs). Hope you enjoy this.**_

It was dark. There was wind. And rain. And thunder, and lightning- and so many other ominous things. But most importantly, there was magic. A smell of lilies and honey and scented smoke, so sweet- it was out of place in such a setting. It was the smell of the old religion; of the power from a higher up, the power of someone equivilant to God himself, yet wasn't one.

And for a terrifying moment, the warlock though he might snap, and finally go crazy. It was a fitting end to a disgusting creature so deeply entwined with magic. A fitting end...

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I had no choice." His voice remains level, as he stares down from the parapet at the hard cobblestone courtyard below. His hands shake and he can feel the cold seeping into his bones and lodging itself deep inside him, right beneath his heavy heart. This wasn't how he imagined his big reveal to be like. He imagined more shouting. More drama. And the stake. Always the stake. And of course, the raging fire that would have to consume him some time in the future. He wondered, vaguely, if it were worth it if he were to throw himself off the castle walls this instant instead of prolonging it like he so wished. Perhaps, it would've saved him from his imminent fate a little faster so that he wouldn't have had to go through this agonizing wait.

"Bullshit." The person who spoke pauses. "You could've told me. I would've understood. I'm not my father."

"I know." He smiles a soft, secret smile. "But a magician never reveals his tricks, Arthur. I'm not about to." And then, his face sets in a determined look as he turned around and says softly, almost inaudibly to the crown prince,

"You have to understand."

"I wouldn't have let my father kill you, and you know that."

"I know nothing."

"You know everything."

"And what makes you say that?"

The silence settles over them, as Arthur contemplated how to answer the warlock. All the while, his innards (well, not _really _his innards, but more like his very soul) were at battle with one another. He was distinctly aware of the blood draining from his face and leaving it cold and pale, he was aware of the fingernails that dug deep into the coarse skin of his palm, and the the warlock's lingering gaze... it was something he could never forget. Not after thirty years, or fourty years, or perhaps even fifty years even, if he lived that long to do so.

And then Arthur settles on his answer. "You're just _like _that. You don't act like it, but you're wise; I've seen that in you. I know what you're capable of. And to tell the truth, I'm not very surprised."

"You must know, I only did it to protect you from harm and Camelot from falling."

"I know. Somehow, I've known all along, but I'd never come to terms with this... It just didn't make sense, why the person I trusted the most would lie to me."

Merlin flinched. "You know I'll never harm you, Arthur. You know it."

"I can't be sure." Arthur paused and searched Merlin's face for an answer. He sighed. "But I know for sure my Bestfriend wouldn't keep something like this from me. You... you are magic. It is a part of you; and as a friend, it is my job to accept you as you are, even though I might never have confessed all this."

Arthur hesitates for a moment, and then he settles for saying," I've said all I've needed to say. Every single word is the truth. I won't hurt you either, Merlin. So get off the damned parapet. I won't let you kill yourself."

Merlin looked at Arthur with an intensity in his eyes that Arthur didn't even know he was capable of. Where had that fun-loving, goofy, klutzy servant run off to? It was that Merlin he wanted. Not this serious, grave-looking Merlin that was too pale, too thin-

"Yes, sire."

And he got off the parapet, slowly, sluggishly, though his deep blue eyes stayed on the edge far too long for Arthur's liking; had the warlock really wanted death so much? Just to evade Arthur? But what surprised him, was what he did next.

He strode forward, arms stiff like boards in front of him, outstretched- and he hugged Merlin. He held Merlin close to him, closed his eyes, let a heavy breath out, swallowed, then took four deep breaths again. Lilies, honey and scented smoke. And of course, the clear cut smell of rain in the air. With all these lingering in his mind, and imprinting themselves in the tissues of his cranium, he clung on tightly to the warlock, refusing to let him go until he made sure the warlock was safe, and sound; after all, Merlin was his friend. His _Best_friend. It was't something he would deny.

Each of them clung onto one another in the midst of the dark night with naught a star in the sky, or the moon to guide their way. But even though all had been said and done, and they had found temporary solace and peace in each other's embrace, morning came too soon, and made strangers of them.

This conversation was one they would deny ever having.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

Neither one of them said anything, but it was so, so obvious something _had _happened. Painfully obvious in fact, judging by the looks they shot each other when they thought the other wasn't watching.

It hurt, just to watch them. It was just so painfully beautiful, their relationship. Servant and Prince. Warlock and heir to throne. Magic and Courage. Two so completely different yet still the same coin- without one, the other would never survive. It was the way things were; It hurt, just to watch them. It was just so painfully beautiful, their relationship.

_**And that is the end =) Hope you enjoyed.**_

_**M4I**_


End file.
